finding myself (we all know i was lost)
by Marvelgeek42
Summary: "Can I help?" she asks, giving him her seductive smile. He shrugs. "Sure. Provided I get veto rights." "I was hoping you'd forget about that," she shakes her head with a small smile. [Fix-It of Sorts]
1. what's in a name

**Word Count: 941**

 **This is not what I planned for this...at all.** **Which is why I'll write a second chapter at one point.**

 **Translations can be found in the end notes. But please do correct me, if you speak the language.**

* * *

 ** _what's in a name_**

* * *

He — it's actually weird to think of himself as he again, after decades and decades of being nothing more than an object even in his own mind — isn't surprised that Natalia is the one who finds him first.

She's the one that knows him best, after all, due to the long time they had spent training together before she had escaped.

 _(And a part of him is so incredibly bitter that she didn't take him with her._

 _But he knows that she couldn't have done that if either of them wanted to survive.)_

Sure, Steve Rogers — Captain America — had grown up alongside him, they had spent their youth together, but both of them had changed a lot in the time that had passed since — what was it? — the Train Incident.

 _(They both had suffered, but the cause of their pain and the effects of it were so very, very different._

 _Steve is still recognizable._

 _He — he doesn't have a name right now — isn't.)_

Natalia arrives at the doorstep of his apartment in Klaipeda, Lithuania, at around four in the morning. She doesn't make a sound while entering, but he had purposefully left everything dusty, so that only very few—mutants and such—would be able to enter without giving it away.

And for all of her numerous qualities, this is one of the small number of skills useful for her that she does not possess.

 _(Does she have skills now that aren't useful?_

 _He decides that he wants some of those, but he doesn't know where to start looking.)_

A few minutes before she enters, his alarm rings to wake him up for his morning run, so he's in the shower during the time.

He likes to do it early, before most of the populace is awake, let alone outside of their house.

It makes him safer. Less likely that someone finds him.

 _(He doesn't make it impossible after a few months. Just so that the skill-level required is very, very rare._

 _He wants Natalia to find him, he thinks.)_

He sees the lack of dust on a windowsill a few minutes later — it is impossible for an adult to climb through without touching it, he has tried — he knows that someone had entered. And he's suddenly very glad that he decided to put on his running clothes instead of walking around in a towel.

 _(He did that sometimes, because it was something he had never done_ Before _.)_

"Наталия? Я знаю что ты здесь." he calls out. He chooses to speak in Russian, because that is the language the two of them had always conversed in when they were not on a mission.

A redheaded figure steps from the shadows her head angled to the side.

"Откуда ты знаешь что это была я?" she asks, her left eyebrow raised pointedly.

"ты считаете меня дураком?" he replies, chuckling ever so slightly. "Кто еще это может быть?"

"Отличная смысл." she acknowledges, before switching to English. "I missed you."

Following her lead, he changes the language as well. "I did as well," he admits. "But I won't come with you. At least not yet."

"Yasha," she begins, but he raises his hand to stop her.

"That's not my name. I don't know what is, but it's not that." He sees Natalia's shoulders sink a minuscule amount — which, for her, was a fairly extreme display of emotion — so he adds, "It's not Bucky or James either. That's not who I am anymore. I'm someone new, someone different, ergo I need a new name. I just haven't chosen it yet."

She perks up at that.

"Can I help?" she asks, giving him her seductive smile.

He shrugs. "Sure. Provided I get veto rights."

"I was hoping you'd forget about that," she shakes her head with a small smile.

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I may not remember everything, but I remember enough to know that you'd give me a weird name or one with a hidden meaning," he points out.

She crosses her arms and leans against the wall. "Честная оценка. What do you think about Bob?"

"No," he says without any hesitation whatsoever. "Too bland and boring."

"And what about Legolas, then?" she questions suggestively. Natalia looks like she is hiding a laugh, as if she knows something funny that he doesn't—which is quite likely. "Is that interesting enough for you?"

He shakes his head. "I did manage to see Lord of the Rings." Granted, it had only been last week, but she didn't need to know that.

The way she pouts is kind of...cute? And that is a word he never expected to associate with her and if he even thought about speaking it out loud, he would have to make a run for his knife.

 _(He does have around five on him when he was wearing his running clothes, but both of them know that she has more.)_

"And what about Vladimir? Sherlock? Perseus? Nicolas? Quentin?"

"The last one sounds acceptable," he interrupts her. He's pretty sure that from this point onwards, there will only be crazier and crazier suggestions and he could actually sort of see himself as a Quentin.

"Alright, Quentin," she smiles at him. An actual smile. "Pack your bags, you're coming with me to Stark Tower."

"And why should I?" newly-christened Quentin asks.

Natalia lays her head to the side. "Because of the science, of course."

Five minutes later, his backs are packed.

* * *

 **Наталия? Я знаю что ты здесь. - Natalia? I know you're here.**

 **Откуда ты знаешь что это была я? - How did you know it was me?**  
 **ты считаете меня дураком? - Do you think me a fool?**  
 **Кто еще это может быть? - Who else could it be?**  
 **Отличная смысл. - Excellent point.**  
 **Честная оценка. - Fair point.**


	2. ready for something good to happen now

**Word Count: 1,049**

 **Someone pointed out that the Russian in the previous chapter is wrong, but I can't figure out how to correct it, help please.**

* * *

 _ **ready for something good to happen now**_

* * *

"I thought that the Avengers aren't currently staying anywhere specific?" Quentin asks as he and Natasha enter the lobby of the Stark Tower dressed in what Natasha calls 'horrible fashion' and carrying everything in Quentin's possession. Quentin doesn't own all that much, so he can comfortably carry all of them.

 _(Quentin decides that he actually likes it. It's familiar, yet different._

 _Just like everything else in his life is.)_

"They don't—we don't," Natasha corrects herself. "But as you said yourself, you're not Bucky anymore. Steve has an idea of who you should be and will expect you to act like it. Stark, on the other hand, will not have anything like that. And even if he had, you'd still be free to reinvent yourself around him."

 _(She is actually looking out for_ him _. Not for her own goals, but simply because she cared._

 _It was a welcome change. He could imagine himself getting used to it.)_

Quentin wants to ask Natasha if Stark is fine with this, especially since that particular mission had been—no, he should name it. That's a thing, right? Addressing the issue so one can heal?

Before Quentin can finish that thought, they have reached the register. The line had moved quite fast, they had barely waited at all.

"Hello, we'd like to speak to Mr. Stark as soon as possible, please," Natasha greets.

"For what purpose?" the lady inquires without looking up. "If you want to apply, online application is the preferred form. If you want to present an invention, you will be delegated to someone from the R&D department that may or not be Dr. Stark. If you have a claim of paternity, then—"

"It's more of an interpersonal matter," Natasha interjected. "If you would look up for a second, please?"

The lady looks up.

She and Natasha meet eyes.

The lady glances at Quentin.

"Take the elevator to the right," the desk lady answers. She doesn't look intimidated, although the recognition is clear in her eyes.

"Thanks, Kiều Minh," Natasha says with a smile, not-quite-dragging Quentin to the aforementioned elevator.

The last thing Quentin can hear before the doors close sound threatening. Like a robbery.

Quentin looks at Natasha. "Shouldn't we help?"

"Do you want to?" she responds. "Phan Kiều Minh used to be SHIELD—the good part of it. She can handle herself."

 _(Is this this 'trust' thing Quentin has so much heard of?)_

During the elevator ride, he realizes that the Avengers Tower is something completely different. It doesn't even matter to what Quentin compares it to, it just is.

The elevator has glass doors (liability—a part of him wants to insist) and through them Quenting is able to observe some of the workers in the tower.

There's people playing with Nerf guns while others calmly do their paperwork right in their path, there are at least fifteen explosions of various sizes, and a group of people is cheering around a robot. There's also a group of people that just have to be hackers staring intensely at their screens, only some of them moving to take a bite of food or a sip of their drinks.

 _(He wants to be down there with them. He isn't sure where exactly but down there.)_

"This glass isn't actually glass," Natasha informs him. "I'm not sure what the exact name is, but a Stark employee invented it in 2010. It can stand an attack with a tank. I should know, I got to drive the tank."

"Weren't you employed in Legal?" He had heard something about that mission from his handlers.

"That was after I handed in that report full of semi-believable lies," Natasha quips. "I explained my reasoning and that the Honeypot style wasn't a good idea in retrospect. After that was out of the way, Pepper was willing to offer me a side job."

"You sound like you enjoy it," he observes. He had trained her himself, if there was anyone on this planet who could read her, it was him.

"I do," Natasha confirms. "That's why I accepted, after all. It's very refreshing to do something purely because you want to instead of someone telling you to do it."

 _(He desperately wants something like this as well. Choice is such an odd concept, but he thinks he'll like it.)_

"You'll get to have a job of your choice as well. Or education, if you'd rather have that. Tony would rather shoot himself in the foot than take a choice away from someone. He hasn't been through something like us, but it's not as far away as anyone would want it to be either."

The man seemed to have been through a lot. There was the thing that Quentin had done (come on, name it, it'll be good for you) and whatever Natasha was alluding to. That alone would be a challenge for anyone, but Quentin wasn't enough of a fool to think that anyone who at least kind of got along with Natasha was exactly, well sane.

 _(It's no surprise for anyone he isn't himself, he would say.)_

"Have you asked if I can stay here," Quentin questions instead.

"Not yet," Natasha admits. "If he has a problem, I have Plans B through D ready. But he invited the Avengers here after the Loki fiasco, so he is at least open to the general idea."

"Did anyone take him up on it?" It is a generous offer, that much is certain, but since they aren't living together that must mean that not all of them did.

"Bruce did. Thor usually stops by whenever he's on earth, which usually means that Jane and Darcy aren't far behind. And, yes, it kind of became my new home base."

Before Quentin could ask any further questions, the elevator stopped and a voice began to come out of the speakers.

 _(Someone is watching them. It is not a surprise. It is to be expected from a place owned by Stark.)_

"Dr. Stark will not be able to meet you for another half an hour, you can wait in the living room, if you so desire. Dr. Banner may join you, since he seems to be nearing the end of his meditation."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Natasha said as she left the elevator, Quentin trailing behind her.


	3. help is welcome (i think)

**_help is welcome (i think)_**

* * *

The two of them enter floor that is incredibly open and spacious. Not just by Quentin's experiences _(far from representative they may be)_ , but also based on the things he has seen on TV.

Natasha leads him towards a couch that somehow manages to look both incredibly comfortable and ridiculously expensive, but Quentin prefers to stand.

The name Stark reminds him of something and it's not something anything close to pleasant. Yeah, Bucky's memories speak up, but so do the Soldier's. He can't quite put a finger on it yet, but Quentin has managed to get some experience with this over the past few months.

 _(He isn't sure whether it's a good or a bad thing._

 _A little bit of both, maybe?)_

Memories from the Soldier are never good and since its time _(that time wasn't human enough for any other pronoun)_ comes after Bucky, that cannot possibly lead to any positive end results. He's estimating that this half hour until Dr. Stark had time for them will result in him remembering more and he is afraid.

 _(If Dr. Stark is a victim, then Quentin doesn't deserve his hospitality. He doesn't deserve anything._

 _Which is why he remains standing.)_

After a few minutes, another person enters the room. _(Brown hair and eyes, glasses, lean built, semi-confident stan - No, stop. This is no mission. There will not be a fight.)_

"Bruce," Natasha greets him. "It's good to see you."

"Hey, Nat," the man _(temporary designation: Bruce)_ replies, before his eyes fall on Quentin. "How about you introduce us."

"Bruce, this is Quentin. His past is in the race for worst backstory and it looks like it's winning," she summarizes bluntly. "Quentin, this is Dr. Bruce Banner, who is in a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation with the Hulk."

 _(He understands that...he thinks.)_

"Tony really rubs off on you," Dr. Banner notes _(who is Tony?)_.

"Thanks," Natasha replies. "You, too. Tony is Stark," she adds, turning to Quentin. Then she looks expectantly at Dr. Banner who raises his hands defensively.

"Hey, I'm not going to ask until I know him better and he's at least somewhat prepared to talk. Though, if I may, Dr. Xavier has a group of trustworthy therapists."

Quentin knows who Dr. Xavier is. He watches the news and the man had recently proposed an amendment to those unnamed Accords that have apparently been tossed around since some New York incident Quentin hadn't gotten around to researching yet.

Then he realizes that Dr. Banner and Natasha are both looking at him. Another moment passes before he gets that they are waiting for his optionion. He gets a choice here.

 _(Theraphy's image changed. That much he has learned. It's not ordinary or respected quite yet, but it's getting there.)_

"It...sounds like a good idea." Making decisions is getting a little bit easier every day _(even if he is far from confident)_ , but that doesn't mean he doesn't require help. "But I don't have a legal way to pay."

 _(Using Pierce's money to pay for his rent was one thing, but surely a therapist couldn't afford to be paid by illegal money if they were in such a position._

 _Better not to risk it, in any case.)_

"Oh, don't worry, they get paid by donations," Dr. Banner assures him. "They specialize in those with horrible pasts and enough people realize that those people often don't have the best paying jobs. Or one at all. Those who do generally join in donating various amounts, depending on what they can give."

"That's...that's good then," Quentin comments. He thinks that maybe, once upon a time he would have naturally scratched the back of his head at that _(before it had been trained out)_ , so he he forces it, because it sort of feels like the right thing to do at that moment? He doesn't know, it's all very confusing.

"What exactly are you here for anyway?" Dr. Banner inquires politely, as he takes place on an armchair.

"We're here to ask Tony if he wants to help him," Natasha says, motioning towards Quentin. "But there is a problem with it. Steve said he would talk to Tony about it, but I don't know for certain whether or not he actually did." She admits. And the fact that she admits not knowing something shows so much trust that Quentin can't quite comprehend it.

"Is it a support net kind of situation?" Dr. Banner questions and wow that's a nice thing to focus on. "Because Happy's in the building, Rhodey actually happens to be en route here, and the Keeners will show up tomorrow."

"It most definitely is," Natasha answers without even pausing to analyze the situation.

 _(And in that moment, Quentin realizes why such a quick judgement is possible._

 _He immediately feels like he shouldn't be here at all, nevermind request help from Dr. Stark.)_

Dr. Banner looks as Quentin's horrified expression and then promptly stands up. "I'm going to prepare tea. JARVIS, can you tell everyone to get here as soon as possible."

"Maybe some blankets?" Natasha suggests. Knowing how to read her, Quentin can tell that she's questioning whether that's really a think or made up.

"Sounds good," Dr. Banner nods. "Tony's not going to admit it but he he's a big softie at heart. This will help him get through it. Whatever 'it' is."

"Get through what?" a strawberry blond woman wearing high heels questions from the doorway.

 _(Quentin knows her. From a list of potential targets one of the handlers had left lying around in one of the bases he had...ended. This is Pepper Potts.)_

"Learning how his… learning what _I_ did. Was forced to do," he corrects. "Both. Kind of."

"That sounds like an interesting story," she nods.

"Heartwrenching is a better fit, honestly," Quentin replies dryly. "In every possible sense and then some."

"That doesn't exclude it," Miss Potts argues.

"No," Quentin shrugs. "I suppose it doesn't."


	4. tell him (tell him why)

**Word Count: 989**

* * *

 _ **tell him (tell him why)**_

* * *

Stark appears from the elevator not too long after that, with Colonel Rhodes right by his side.

"Natashalie! I was just about to ask if you want to be temporarily transferred to Europe, considering SHIELD work seems to place you on that side of the pond more often than not recently." He sits down on the couch Quentin is still standing behind. Colonel Rhodes hovers next to Quentin, between him and the couch.

 _(The man has good instincts.)_

"Thank you for the offer," Natasha replys gently, "but I had actually requested that for a side mission. That is now done." She motions towards Quentin.

Dr. Stark looks at him and for less then a second, there is a frown, before understanding dawned on his face.

 _(Impressive. No wonder HYDRA had wanted him eliminated._

 _Or more likely wants. It seems more than improbable that their opinions changed in the few months Quentin has managed to stay away from them.)_

"And you would be?" Dr. Stark questions, raising an eyebrow in Quentin's direction.

He knows who Quentin is _(used to be)_ and Quentin knows that he knows. The room at large is aware of that, too.

This is Stark giving him a chance to reinvent himself and Quentin intends to take it.

 _(He doesn't have all that much.)_

"Quentin," he replies softly. "My name is Quentin."

Dr. Stark nods. "Well, Quentin No-Last-Name, I'm not gonna sugarcoat what I have to say, which is something I would appreciate, were I in your place."

 _(He likes it, too, Quentin decides._

 _This way he knows what he is dealing with, at least.)_

"Go on," Quentin motions.

"Your past as POW is probably the only thing currently preventing you from either a death or life sentence, depending on which country wins the fight to judge you."

"Probably the ICJ — International Court of Justice," Miss Potts inserts. "They should have jurisdiction here."

"Considering the fairly international hit record," Colonel Rhodes nods.

Dr. Stark nods. "Right. The sooner you confess, the higher the chance is that they actually accept you're a victim of coercive persuasion, because sometimes facts aren't the most important thing for judges, as tragic as that is. The sooner you come forward, the better, I've got a great team of lawyers who I bet would be excited for the challenge."

"Am I the only one who does not know what is going on?" Dr. Banner questions.

"We're still waiting on Happy, I'm not sure he knows," Natasha points out.

"He is the Forehead of Security," Dr. Stark informs _(reminds, maybe)_ her. "He knows. Though why are we waiting on him?"

Dr. Banner shrugs, gesturing to the tea on the small table. "Apparently it's a support net situation."

This causes Miss Potts to take Dr. Stark's hands and Colonel Rhodes to place one of his on the other man's shoulder.

"Why that?" Dr. Stark frowns.

 _(He actually didn't know. Quentin hadn't prepared himself for this._

 _Honesty was the best option._

 _He would want to be told if their roles had been reversed, especially when possibly being about to provide both money and lodgings. And already having offered help._

 _Not to forget Dr. Stark has extended the same courtesy to him.)_

Quentin notes a frown appearing on Natasha's face for a fraction of a second.

"I had hoped I was wrong and Steve kept his promise to tell you," she states flatly, though the sigh is implied if you know how to look for it, which Quentin does. "It's been three months, though, and considering he here while I hadn't been, his chance has passed."

"Tell me what?" Dr. Stark asks.

Thankfully, 'Happy' arrives in that moment, sparing Quentin from the choice of whether or not to wait for the man.

"Sorry I took a while, JARVIS told me that I should bring blankets and Legal had used them in a fort."

"It's alright," Pepper replies, motioning for 'Happy' to sit down on Dr. Stark's other side.

 _('Happy' seems a different sort of close to Dr. Stark than Miss Potts or Colonel Rhodes, more the likes of Natasha or Dr. Banner._

 _Quentin does not have enough experience to say with certainity wheter or not his assessment is accurate, but he thinks Miss Potts, the Colonel and Dr. Stark might be in a relationship.)_

"Now that we're all here, maybe we could get to the reason _why_ this is necessary," Dr. Stark proposed.

Quentin looked him in the eyes and took a small step backwards to get out of the billionaire's space.

"I'm going to be equally blunt as you were earlier. The death of your parents wasn't an accident." Dr. Stark stilled. "HYDRA ordered it and they used me to carry it out. I didn't make the choice, but I'm the one who did it."

Dr. Stark mind seems to be racing in overdrive as 'Happy' and Colonel Rhodes basically race to comfort him. Dr. Banner's skin gains a green hue around his eyes and knuckles.

Miss Potts, meanwhile, focuses on Natasha. "You knew. And yet you brought him here."

"I did. Steve promised he would tell you," she responds. "I meanwhile used my own funds to track Quentin down. I brought him here, because this is the place where he can get the best help."

"Tony isn't required to do anything!" Colonel Rhodes hisses.

 _(Quentin knows. He hopes they can tell.)_

"I am aware," Natasha states calmly, "I don't intend to try and suggest otherwise." Quentin nods at that. "This is just the first stop. I'd still ask Xavier, Rand, possibly Hope Pym, and more."

"I'm still going to give you legal help," Tony declares shaking. "Because I want justice, though, not for your benefit. And if you want to live here, you'll have to pay rent."

"Thank you, Dr. Stark. It's much more than I deserve," Quentin responds honestly, calming the rest of the room down enough to stop actively glaring at him.

* * *

 **Some reviews would be amazing, since I have literally been working on this chapter (on and off, I admit) since March.**


	5. small steps (in the right direction)

**Quickest update in the history of this story.**

 **Word Count: 935**

* * *

 _ **small steps (in the right direction)**_

* * *

Dr. Stark excuses himself not long after that. Colonel Rhodes and Dr. Banner quickly follow him out after that.

 _(Quentin understands. He would not want to be in the same room as them in their place._

 _Hell, if it were somehow possible for him to not be in the same room as himself, he'd jump on the chance.)_

Miss Potts lingers in the room just a little bit longer. She looks first at Quentin, then at Natasha and 'Happy', then back at Quentin after the man nods, giving each of them a considering glance.

"You'll need a job to pay rent," she declares. "Happy can find a space for you in the Security Department."

 _(There's something about this suggestion that really bothers him._

 _It's not the suggestion of the job itself, but he doesn't know what it is is precisely.)_

"I have money. From Pierce," Quentin replies, more to give himself some time than anything.

"You can donate the rest of it in a few months," Natasha proposes. "Trying to find the most NGO he would least support and then donating to them is a great pastime, believe me."

And Quentin does believe her.

 _(Fortunately, he thinks he has figured out what had bothered him.)_

"I intend no offence towards any of you," Quentin states slowly, with some hesitation. "But I'd prefer not to fight or spy on someone ever again unless there is absolutely no other choice. I'd like to help people, after I've spent so much time hurting them."

Pepper looks at him and her expression shows some level of approval.

 _(It might be the first time he has offered his opinion without prompting since falling in that ravine.)_

"We'll put you in the recovery effort then. Those who clean up after natural disasters or attacks, or whatever just to happens to cause destruction in that week," she clarifies. "There's always something going on, I'm sure we'll find a space for you."

"I'd like that," Quentin responds and it feels like the truth.

* * *

A week later, and he has started working with a surprisingly varied group of people, from a Taiwanese American who could move things with her mind to an African American who looked like he hadn't left the gym in about six months.

They had been given the basic details of his situation and thankfully did not spend half of the time glaring at him like he had expected.

 _(It's… nice.)_

Another thing that happens, one that surprises him even more _(given his life, he had not thought he could be surprised anymore)_ when a kid of maybe twelve or thirteen power-walks towards him. He's followed by a girl of maybe five or six that has to be his sister.

"You're not gonna hurt Tony again. If you do, I'll hurt you. I have a potato gun and I'm not afraid to use it."

The girl is tightly clutching an Iron Patriot/War Machine plushie and nodding along. Both of the kids are wearing Iron Man shirts.

 _(Is it legal for these kids to be this cute?)_

"If I purposefully hurt anyone again, I deserve it," Quentin replies.

"That's right!" the girl huffs, making the little plushie point at him. "The Mechanic is nice and we're not gonna let you be a meanie!"

"I'm trusting you to tell me if I accidentally am," Quentin says in total seriousness, before turning to her brother, "you, too, of course."

"Don't worry, we will," the boy says, taking his sister by the hand and storming off.

"JARVIS, I hope you saved this recording," Natasha comments, rounding a corner the moment the kids have left.

"Of course, Miss Romanova." JARVIS sounds insulted by the suggestion that he would not.

"Wonderful. Can you show me a picture of the trio's faces when they learn of it? I would appreciate it."

 _(No one has referred to anyone as 'the trio' around Quentin before, but he guesses it cannot be anyone but Dr. Stark, Miss Potts, and Colonel Rhodes.)_

"I will see what you can do."

Natasha smiles. "You're a gift, JARVIS."

"I do try."

It's only then that Natasha acknowledges Quentin's existence again. "I have two things I need to run by you. Three, actually," she corrects as something else occurs to her.

"I'm listening."

She holds up a finger. "Last confirmation. You still good for the session with Zehng at Xavier's tomorrow?"

He nods.

 _(He doesn't know if he will continue it, but he's at least willing to try._

 _It's not like his mental state can get much worse.)_

She holds up a second finger. "Is the recovery group somewhat working for you?"

This time, Quentin takes a moment to think about it, but he does still nod.

She raises a third finger. "Tony want to make you a new arm."

That one hits him completely out of left field. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

 _(Why would the man ever want to do anything for him? Nevermind the fact he's already doing so much.)_

"His precise words were 'I'm going to make sure that the weapon that killed my mom is no longer in existence.' He specified the arm, because he's aware you were essentially the gun and not the shooter in this scenario and didn't want his intentions to be misunderstood. Happens too often," she explains.

 _(Phrased like this it makes sense._

 _And given the fact that in addition to the need to do anything Dr. Stark wants to even earn a chance of forgiveness, the arm is actually causing him frequent pain, something the other man would surely fix.)_

"How could I say no to this?"

* * *

 **Hey guys, so some reviews would be very cool, thanks. Also this is the second to last chapter. (Probably. It's either gonna be six or seven chapters in total)**


	6. others will have me (i can chose my fam)

**Word Count: 958**

* * *

 ** _others will have me (i can choose my family)_**

* * *

When Quentin is not busy having therapy sessions with Zehng, working with the recovery effort or having Dr. Stark work on his arm, he starts to explore the internet, as JARVIS had suggested that as the best place to start catching up on popular culture.

 _(They made him aware enough of fashion and such to not stand out unintentionally._

 _Though he's pretty sure he did not exactly stay in the shadows like they wanted him to._

 _At least he made them work for that reputation of a ghost story._

 _At least he had not made things easy for them.)_

He creates profiles on sites such as twitter, reddit, YouTube, and tumblr. And looks at what they're saying. Some of what they're saying makes a lot of sense, like the notion that all people deserve an equal chance to succeed, one that isn't half as close to the reality as many would like to pretend. It's a movement that Quentin supports.

Another thing he likes is the idea of not killing more animals than needed for food. He didn't eat all that much food growing up, what with the Depression and all. He's not going to bother anyone else about their choices regarding things, but he asking JARVIS reveals that there's already a vegan meal plan integrated in the Tower — as it apparently is in every Stark facility — and that it is no trouble to ensure that Quentin's meals are as well.

 _(He takes the offer only after repeated assurances than it is no trouble.)_

He also picks up some of the fashion; starts putting up his hair in a man bun and wears ripped jeans, among other things and it is not something that he actively chooses to do.

In fact, it's something he barely even notices until Shuri, the Wakandan Princess that sometimes joins their sessions via video calls, points it out to him.

 _(Apparently Dr. Stark and the princess had caught each other hacking into their respective systems and had started a friendship over it; the princess being born in this millenium being largely irrelevant for both of them)_

She takes a look at Quentin one day and greets him with "Hey Hipster-man."

 _(That's a title he had acquired completely on his own, by his own choice._

 _He likes it.)_

Despite everything, Quentin finds these sessions with Dr. Stark and the various expects he occasionally brings; the princess, Dr. Cho, Dr. Palmer — who had been convinced that Dr. Stark was looking for one currently absent Dr. Strange before Dr. Stark had convinced her that he had known what he is doing when calling her — and, once, Dr. Banner.

 _(He appreciates the fact that he is given the option to decline their help every time.)_

There's one thing that Dr. Stark does that bothers him. Or, well, rather the implications of it do.

Not once has Dr. Stark called those amazing robots of his — DUM-E, U, and Butterfingers — by something other than 'he' — 'she' in the case of Butterfingers. It's really nice of him and where their context anything else, Quentin would admire Dr. Stark for it.

 _(Hell, a part of him still does now.)_

It kind of feels like Dr. Stark is rubbing Quentin's past _(when he had been more an object than a human)_ in for a while. And he tries to just stick through with it _(he deserves so much more than that)_ , but eventually he complains to his therapist, because he figures she will keep quiet about it if nothing else.

 _(Natasha is seems to be Dr. Stark's friend as much as his. He doesn't want to put her in that position.)_

The therapist looks at Quentin in confusion for a moment, before she focuses directly on him.

"Let me tell you, Quentin, that I have spent a lot of time with Dr. Stark over the years. He was never my patient, but nevertheless, I feel confident in saying that this is a misunderstanding. He has always seen them as intelligent being, has always referred to them as people. That, of course, does not mean your feelings are invalid. I know full well that you are hesitant to discuss anything personal with Dr. Stark, but I think this would benefit from some discussion."

Quentin takes a deep breath. "Maybe someday."

 _(It's more than he had said before. He's pretty sure Zehng counts it as a win.)_

The conversation is still very present in his mind during his time working with recovery and even when he arrives back at the tower that evening.

Right up until he sees Steve and Sam Wilson in the lobby, clearly waiting for him.

"Bucky," Steve says and the longing in his voice is almost tangible. "We looked for you. Why haven't you said anything?"

 _(Quentin had thought about it a lot, even before Natasha had found him.)_

"I go by Quentin now," he informs his _(former?)_ best friend. "And I needed to find myself first. It's nothing against you, it's just that you would expect me to be exactly the same as I was. And I'm not."

"That's okay, Quentin," Steve says, looking him in the eyes. "I've changed, too, after all. I'm just glad you're still alive and getting better."

Quentin smiles. That's the Steve he knew and loved.

Sam Wilson — who does look quite attractive, yes, Bucky suddenly realizes — introduces himself. "What do you think about a bonding event of some kind? I have this friend who's a theatre nerd, he strongly suggested something called Hamilton to me. Said I should see it the minute I'm in New York City again."

"Sure," Quentin agrees, looking at Sam more than at Steve for the moment. "Let's do that."


End file.
